“I’m not sure it’s totally healthy,” my husband said, with a look of concern in his eyes. We’d been talking about my tendency to throw myself into a project.
He’s right, kind of. When I invest myself into something, I go full speed, 125%, until it’s completely finished. He sees this on a regular basis; in college, it happened when I wrote essays and refused to take food breaks until the word count was finalized and my third draft was complete. Just the other week, I spent 8 straight hours going through all of my old newspaper clips, cutting them out and organizing them into a physical portfolio, throwing aside plans to workout, eat, or interact with anything other than my old words.
It’s something I do. Whether I’m reading a book or completely redoing my home office space, I obsess and stream roll through until I’m satisfied…and that doesn’t come until the very end.
For me, though, it’s something I’m grateful for. Yes, skipping meals and transforming into a one-track zombie is not the most healthy practice. I’ll admit to that, along with a small dose of guilt for neglecting everything else in my life, including my concerned husband, when I’m on that roll. However, it’s part of who I am, and I happen to really appreciate that side of me.
Inward Gratitude, Y’all
In the past, I’ve dedicated my gratitude posts to very important people in my life, starting with my mom, dad, late pup, and former newspaper staff. My unwavering appreciation for my husband is smeared all over my Married at 22 section, and there are many more names I’ll bring up on my monthly series.
This time, though, is for me.
When I’m compelled to act, I do it to the best of my ability. When I attack a project, the final product is something I am proud of. When I put my name on something, my endorsement has meaning. You know what? I’m grateful to myself, for being a high-quality bad ass.
I’m not a perfect person. I often question myself as a friend when I take too long to reply to texts and emails, and when I’d rather do ANYTHING besides my share of the cooking, I feel like I’m less of a partner. There are many more examples that I’m aware of, and plenty more that I’m probably not. However, when I set my mind to something, it’s a quality of redemption. I’ll go hard in the paint and deliver. For myself, for anyone in my corner.
That’s who I am. Happily so. Imperfectly, passionately, and maybe hungrily, too.